NT's wouldn't believe the stuff I do to get along in daily life. Some of it I've borrowed from various "organizational skills" workshops, others from strategies for the autistic.
I have a horrible time with names and faces. I've forgotten my own name, address, phone number, birthday, sex (that's a story in itself) and what car I drive. Therefore, name tags and business card holders are a godsend. When I approach someone's office I look for their name on the office door. Some people put a business card up as their office identifier. Some people have a stash of business cards on their desk. Whenever I walk to an office, I pray there's something available so I can catch the person's name, otherwise I'm sunk. It just happened a moment ago. I had to refer to the occupant of the office down the hall and took a complete blank. I conspired to move the conversation down the hall so I could peak in his office, but I didn't have my glasses on so I couldn't grab his name off a diploma, so while nobody was looking I nipped into his office to get the name. I've known this guy for 12 years. A few weeks ago I sent an email to my boss that was actually intended for my father-in-law (both have the same first name). Fortunately my boss has resigned himself to weirdities like this.
I volunteer at bingos. This means wandering the floor selling bingo cards, calling out bingos and retrieving winnings from the cash area. Most of the other volunteers know many of the customers by name. I don't even know the volunteer's names, never mind the customers. I panic every time I have to call a bingo because there's a very good chance I will have trouble getting the winnings back to their intended recipient. Remember the face is a write-off. Therefore, I memorize what they're wearing and count the number of steps and directions I take to get to the cash counter with their receipt. Then I walk back the same way and look for the article of clothing. So, I might arrive at the window mumbling "three aisles down, 5 people south, red hat". If along the way the bingo caller says the colour of the next card (green) and calls a number (B2), I'm sunk. I've lost the colour because I heard "green", I've lost the location because I heard "two", so I have to fall back on generic spatial sense of where I was and look for somebody who doesn't have a receipt or looks like they think they're supposed to get money. Usually another customer takes pity on me and points. Other than that I love working bingos because it's a predicable routine with set rules and I'm good with cash (used to work in cash offices and banks) and there's little opportunities for socialization because everybody's concentrating on the bingo caller.
On public transit, I prefer to stand unless there's at least two space's worth of seats available so I don't have to interact with the person next to me to determine if the seat's available. Even the transaction "is this seat taken?" can go horribly wrong. If there's background noise and the person responds anything other than a clear "yes" or "no" it gets garbled, usually coming out as "yull" or "neh" often accompanied by some sort of incomprehensible hand gesture. I can't tell if they're waving me into the seat or motioning that the seat is taken. It's easier just to stand.
At movie theatres, I send the kids ahead to pick out seats. I rarely go to theatres anyway because I can't cope with the background noise, the chewing noises, the uncomfortable chairs, the screen flicker and the lack of closed captioning. Other people complain that theatres are too loud. I like them loud because I have a much better chance of catching what people are saying if it's super loud. Remember, I've had my hearing checked. The audiologist says I have "phenomenal" hearing - right off the scale. I can hear bats squeak. I can hear whales move. I just can't understand speech except in perfect conditions, which is NOT what you get in a theater. Better to let them pick out seats and do that socialization and it's OK if they sit too close because I'm that much closer to the speaker system and have fewer distractions in front of me.
ATM's rule. The bank I work with allows passbooks to be updated at the ATM so I almost never have to interact with a live person except on the rare occasion when I finish a passbook. Even then I ask them for several at a time. Even the smallest disruption in the "script" throws me such as the teller asking if I want large bills. I just stare at her in blank incomprehension until she's repeated the question several times (usually because I lose a chunk of it to background noise). Here's what I hear.
- [Drawer closes] want [ka-ching] shills?
- Do you [siren goes past]
- [printer fires up] barge fills?
- My marge bills.
- [cough] large [sniff]?
Then I've got it. I can piece the sentence together from the other fragments. "Do you want large bills?". I repeat it back to her to make sure, then claim deafness (which is close to the truth in a warped kind of way).
I've become a master lip-reader. I didn't even know I was doing it until I spent a lot of time with someone who was constantly wiping their nose or rubbing their mouth or looking away while talking. I'd lose everything. As soon as they stopped doing that, it was like somebody had turned up the volume. I thought I was going nuts until I taped it. They were speaking clearly enough for the tape to pick it up, but I wasn't getting it unless I could lip-read the consonants.
The problem with that is that I end up staring intently, which throws people off. I also have huge problems with accents because I pick up the consonants OK, but the vowels don't match what I'm used to hearing.
Pitch is a huge issue. I have perfect pitch and I'm a very hearing-oriented person (ironically enough). I diagnose computer problems by listening to them. I can catch a hard drive going sour waaay before it starts kicking out diagnostic messages. I know when my car is acting up before the lights go on. I hear when it's low on oil or when the windshield anti-freeze is running out.
I pick out "tone of voice" based almost entirely on pitch. I hear people talking as a song. I happy person talks a "happy song" and a sad person has a "sad song". To avoid speaking in a monotone, I "sing" my responses. Normally this works fairly well. The problem starts when I'm confronted with someone from another culture whose *song* is different. Some cultures use a rising pitch at the end of every sentence. I will hear everything as question. In a previous post I talked about "teacher voice" where the person will screw up the pitches, the *song*, by trying to sound "happy" and "excited" when they're not. I get a mixed message and wonder why they're angry with me.
My partner is often baffled with my responses. He grew up in several cultures all over the world and as a result has a unique accent that totally throws me. He's also talking all the wrong *songs*. On really bad days the conversation goes something like this:
Ank: I [falling pitch] found something really [rising pitch] interesting.
TrogL: I don't understand the question.
Ank: I found something [rising pitch] really [falling pitch] interesting.
TrogL: WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING AT ME!!!
...and it all goes downhill from there.
Being from another culture, he has a different speech rate. I'm from Southern Ontario (with a Buffalo N.Y. overlay) and grew up among slow speakers who pause a lot for effect. He grew up in several fast-speaking cultures. I like to think between each sentence and compose the perfect phrase, he just blurts out any old thing. He ends up jumping in when I'm doing a dramatic pause or cogitating the next
bon mot. When he speaks, it's coming at me so fast it feels like I'm being battered with axe handles. He's got a couple of budgies in the living room and a fan running and this adds to the background noise and my stress level. He'll ask a simple question and then I'll trance. The trance goes on and on and he's baffled because it's a really simple question.
Ank: How was your day?
TrogL: [trance] What do you mean? [Buying for time]
Ank: How was your [bird screech] at the office?
TrogL: [trance] I... [looks troubled]
Ank: Are you [rising inflection] OK?
TrogL: WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING AT ME?!?!?
*sigh*
Hence, I love email. I love BBS's. I
love DU because I've got time to compose my responses, to read and re-read a post to make SURE I've got it right, and there's emoticons, which I prefer to smilies. I just wish there were more of them. I need a :bangheadagainstwall: emoticon desperately. My boss in the next cubicle gets upset because I'll send him an email instead of walking to the next door and talking to him. I'll get a phone call from a user and we'll have a lengthy conversation and reach a conclusion of what's to be done and I'll ask him to send an email to confirm because I know as soon as I get off the phone I'll have the distinct impression is that what he wants is to be sent a box of chocolates when it's really a network problem. Then I can read the email and find out what we were really talking about.
The smells. The smells.
A kid will shove something under my nose and asks what I think it smells like. It's become a standing joke. I don't have a clue. I can recognize five smells.
- hydrocarbon
- floral
- smoke
- yuck
- wet bathing suit
So if a kid shoves something under my nose and I get hydrocarbon with a whiff of floral I can make a wild guess that it's perfume. WRONGO!!! It's WD40. Ank likes to wear cologne. To me, most of it smells like gasoline with a bit of wet bathing suit thrown in. If I smell smoke, I have to make the assumption that something's burning on the stove 'cause I can't tell the difference. Ank will fire up incense and I'll run to the kitchen. I have a particular issue with the wet bathing suit smell. It drives me completely bugshit. At one point I was convinced it was a trauma-based memory so I spent a year with a psychiatrist and we couldn't find anything. Now I know it's a sensory integration issue. Of course, perfume counters are worth a panic attack and I've had to take the stairs at the office if someone gets on the elevator wearing "stinkum". Where I work there's a perfume ban because several of us have issues but that doesn't extend to the clientele.
OOH, see the pretty colours.
That's nice. I can't. Not usually. Life to me happens pretty much in black and white until something jars me to having to actually notice colours. I dream in black and white. When I get a migraine I
can see the colours and it drives me batshit because "blue" sky is screaming cyan and "white" is the glare of a 30,000 watt spotlight and "black" is raving psychedelic indigo. The exception is a colour called "dusky mauve". It's sort of a greyish pinky purple. That drives me nuts, completely bonkers. Unfortunately, it's a favourite institutional colour for some reason. You'll find it on hospital walls. I can't win.
Don't touch me. Just don't. Get over it.
I can't stand being touched. I hate the feel of some fabrics. The feel of grit makes me want to punch somebody or break something. A slimy feel will make me want to jump off a building or out a window. One time when I was a kid I got an eye infection and my parents put cream on my eyelid. I totally freaked. I found the tube and threw it in the garbage and sat by the window all day waiting for the garbage truck and then cheered when it drove off. Problem was, I'd thrown out the dog's medication but my parents got the point and never tried it again. They also gave up serving me custard or Harvard Beets or anything else with a slimy texture. Occasionally I'm confronted with a touch-feely person who insists upon touching me while talking to me. They are taking their life in their hands (pun intended).
DiHydrous Oxygen. H2O. Water. Ugh. Yuck. Take it away.
Once upon a time I fell in a river. Ok, it was right at the water's edge and was about 1" deep at that point. It was traumatic and the story is I've hated water ever since. I'm not so sure that's the complete story. I'm not afraid of rivers. I'm not afraid of bodies of water. With a diving mask, I love being underwater. I just can't cope with it on my face or getting into it or being splashed or not being in control of situations around water. I doubt if I could distinguish between being splashed with a glass of water and being punched. I'm more afraid of squirt guns than I am of firearms. I'll avoid taking baths and showers until people start complaining. The water has to be the perfect temperature, the perfect depth, just the right amount of bubble bath and I need distractors like books and music and cats (fortunately they like to sit on the edge and play with the bubbles).
I've talked about my "uniform" - dress shirt, black jeans, leather jacket. It jacket is great because I love the feel of leather, and it's very VERY heavy. I'm never happier than when I'm wearing my leather jacket, even in summer, even in places where it's inappropriate.
Mom: Don't you want to take your jacket off?
TrogL: No, I'm fine.
Mom: But aren't you hot?
TrogL: No, really, I'm fine. I like it.
Mom: [sniffs] Have you had a bath recently?
Anyway, I was talking about coping skills and got off on a rant. For the sensory stuff I adopt a "check first" policy going into anywhere new. I avoid department stores with perfume counters. I'll rearrange my schedule to avoid rain or wear a parka in summer because it's got a big hood and it's heavy and comforting. It turns out that some people just like the feel of something heavy. At night I sleep under a heavy comforter. They sell weighted vests for kids because it helps them calm down. I use my heavy leather jacket. Alternatively, if I'm having a bad clothes day I'll just rip everything off as soon as I get in the door. Obviously I can't do this when the kids are around.
I can't cope with the latest trend in bathing suits - big, bulky floppy boxers. They don't feel right and air gets trapped under them and they're clingy when they're wet and ... :scared:. I love my Speedoes. Problem is, they're so out of fashion that it's hard to find them. Right after Christmas was the local store was having a bathing suit sale and they had $60 Speedos on at $5.00 each. I cleaned them out - probably a lifetime supply. Now I've got about 15 pair. However, a friend was telling Speedos are banned at some pools. Fortunately, I haven't run into this. It still feels a bit strange, though, to be at a big pool with hundreds of people around and I'm the only person wearing Speedos. I tell myself I'm making a fashion statement. Bullshit.
I have the same problem with underwear. I can't stand boxers or briefs. My choice is bikini or nothing. Often I can't find bikini underwear for sale so when I do find it, I buy a bunch at the same time. Because it's tighter than most underwear, it wears out faster so I'm always on the lookout for a fresh supply.
Ever notice I get fixated on things? I get into a flame war and just can't let go. I get posting a rant and it can go on for hours. I've been at this one all day. I've been fortunate to find work where I can get fixated on something and it's not a huge problem - in fact it's an advantage. I just keep bashing away at an issue until it's fixed or a supervisor tells me to get over it. Then I can move on to the next thing. It's all text-based and I've got everything set up so that I can rule the world from my desk unless something actually physically breaks.
Could you imagine me working at McDonald's? :scared:
I wouldn't be able to understand the customers because of the background noise. The constant new faces would drive me to panic attacks. Brushing up against other cow-orkers would make me crazy and the textures of the food and the constant exposure to water would make me want to break something.
Did you want fries with that?